I like the tag line on web adverts “Although set in 50 AD, this is a story for all time.’ Aren’t they all? Especially as history books date Boudica’s revolt to ten years later in 60 to 61 AD (as does the programme, I hasten to add). There are characters in this from Shakespeare’s Cymbeline. Cunobeline is Cymbeline and Clothen is … well, Clothen. Then there’s Badvoc. That takes me straight to the sitcom, Cheltenham 123, where Rory McGrath plays the hairy British chieftain, Badvoc, in the year 123 AD as the original Essex man. Badvoc was leader of the Trinovantes in that one, an historical tribe which participated in Boudica’s campaign. According to researchers for Cheltenham 123 there was no such person as Badvoc, but “it was a case of choosing the most ancient-sounding names possible.” They say their fictional Badvoc resembles Cunobeline. In this play, Badvoc is King of the Belgics.

When did the Boadicea of my children’s encylopedias become Boudica? It probably wasn’t her name anyway. All the sources are Roman and the word ‘boudika’ in Celtic languages was the feminine form of ‘victorious.’ Whatever, my WordPress spellchecker is insistent it has two c’s: Boudicca. The play is timely in pre-Brexit (I fear) Britain. At times, it appears to beat the Brexit drum, but it cleverly undermines that through the character of Alonna. Boudica has an important role in British mythology as the warrior rebel queen. There’s a resonance down through the years. Eleanor of Aquitaine effectively ruled England through her sons. Then we have Queen Elizabeth I, Queen Victoria, Queen Elizabeth II. Margaret Thatcher was lampooned as a Boadicea figure. A tiny point we both noticed, at times in this play Gina McKee as Boudica shaped her mouth uncannily like Theresa May (who is no Boudica.) In other words, the British have no problem in having a female ruler, and so we were perplexed to hear so many Americans say at the last election ‘I couldn’t vote for a woman as commander-in-chief.’

A few weeks back, the Globe announced that the production would not be suitable for children and offered refunds to any who had booked for kids. It pays to advertise. In fact, it was nothing like as gory as Titus Andronicus a few years ago, and nothing like as potentially offensive as Romeo & Juliet this year. Boudica is the sort of thing The Globe does so well. It is, like Nell Gwynne, purpose made for the theatre. Lively, full of action, great use made of the whole space including the pit, here adding abseiling down from the roof either side. We’d watched a tepid King Learthe day before, and the audience enthusiasm for this was so much greater.

Gina McKee as Boudicca

To the plot. History first. Boudica’s husband, Prasutagus was King of the Iceni, a Celtic tribe in East Anglia. When he died, he named the Roman Emperor as his heir along with his daughters. Unfortunately, the emperor was Nero. On Prasutagus’s demise, the Romans pillaged his kingdom, flogged Boudica and raped the daughters. Boudica rallied the tribes, and sacked both Camulodunum (Colchester), killing 80% of the Ninth Legion, and Londinium (London). Boudica’s far larger army was defeated in battle on the old Roman Road, Watling Street, though the precise location of the battle is unknown.

The Romans torture a Druid before sending him off for crucifixion. A religious mix up there, I think.

Tristan Bernays play continues from those facts. The Romans have called in Prasutagus’ debts and taken the lot. They also only recognised male heirs and refused to let women inherit. Catus Deciamus (Samuel Collings) is a hilariously smooth talking slime of a Roman procurator and passes the sentence: flog Boudicca, give her daughters to his army. The rape scene was off stage, but when the daughters returned they really gave the feeling of having been gang-raped, and still shaking and fearful of any male. Boudicca (Gina McKee) was strapped to a board and flogged. She sets off with Blodwyn (Natalie Simpson) and Allona (Joan Iyiola) to form an alliance with King Cunobeline (Forbes Masson). They then set off to convince Badvoc, King of The Belgics. Badvoc is played by Abraham Popoola who is one of the theatrical finds of the year. He can act, and has a wonderful voice, but more so, he is a giant of a man which gives him huge stage presence. One day he’ll be a fabulous Macbeth … you need a mighty warrior for me. He looks like one.

Abraham Popoola as King Badvoc (right)

The Romans are a nasty bunch from the effete smooth talking procurator to the swearing soldiers. Just to add to their villainy they torture a Druid … the Druids appear to be part of the coalition which I fancy is historically inaccurate.

The British tribes successfully attack and destroy Camulodunum at the end of the first part. The battle scene has the audience cheering along with our bold Brits knocking the shit out of the sleazy Romans. Forgive the choice of words, but that’s how it would be put in the play. It is genuinely exciting. At this point we’re slaughtering the invader and beating the Brexit drum. But …

The stage before the beginning of Part Two.

The second part opens with the British celebrating their victory. Londinium’s next. The song in the text is:

We came to fightTo fight the bastards well
We came to fight, we came to killWe came to send them straight to hell!

The truly brilliant move here is to set it within the punk rock anthem London Calling by The Clash, sung into a mic by Forbes Masson as Cunobeline with the whole cast singing flat out behind him. Yes, it’s a Globe 2016-2017 rock music moment, sung live to massive twin drumming by our two resident female drummers on high. Sometimes it works and this was one. I was reminded that Peter Brooks’ A Midsummer Night’s Dream was propelled by twinned drummers.

Joan Iyiola as Alonna

So full of vainglory we come to a changed viewpoint. Badvoc’s Belgics have captured a Roman woman, Silvia, and he gives her to his men to rape. Enter Blodwyn and Allona. Allona instantly moves to protect the girl from suffering the fate she did, and attacks the Belgics. Right. A rift in the coalition. Cunobeline and Boudica arrives. Badvoc is furious at the attack on his men. Boudicca offers to buy the girl with gold to calm things down, but Blodwyn, “for the sake of the coalition” is prepared to let the Belgics have her. Allona does rescue Silvia, who is terrified of her. This is the interesting bit. Allona sees her as the “immigrant” and invader. Silvia points out that she too was born here. The Romans have been in Britain for a century. So a second or third generation from an “immigrant family” (like many of the cast, I assume). She too is British. I was reminded of a political meeting in the 60s when African students were arguing that white South Africans should be expelled. An impassioned white South African (a very left wing guy) spoke and pointed out that his family had been in South Africa since the early 1700s, and added that was far longer than those of Zulu descent, who had arrived in his home area in the early 19th century. It’s the same point. You’re here. You were born here, regardless of race.

Natalie Simpson as Blodwyn slaughtering an unarmed Roman,

As the coalition falls apart, Blodwyn becomes more warlike, Allona is spreading the message of peace. After Boudica dies at her own hand, the final confrontation between the sisters (labelled Epilogue in the text) is marked by costume. As warriors both had worn a skirt hitched up over trousers. At the end, Blodwyn has dispensed with the skirt and is in trousers. Allona has dispensed with the trousers and is now in a dress. The male / female attitude is reflected in costume. The final dialogue has a lot to say:

ALLONA What is it that you’re actually fighting for?
When all is said and done, what do you want?BLODWYN To have this island as it once was – for those
Born and bred in it.ALLONA And what of they
The Romans born and bred here?

By this point, the bloodthirsty Blodwyn is about as sympathetic a character as Nigel Farage at an Anglo-French Friendship Society’s dinner. :

ALLONA Time is a tide that we cannot turn back
We must swim with it or we shall be drowned.BLODWYN And would you let this tide of filth come in
And drown our people?

Gina McKee is a Boudica you wouldn’t mess with. Stern, strong, striding into action. Both daughters are superbly played … and Allona has quite a few touchy-feely sentiments to express too, always hard to carry off, but she succeeds. There is a trio of Roman soldiers for comedy … having said that, most of the cast have to double, treble or quadruple in various action roles.

Badvoc again.

In the programme, Tristan Bernays explains that they wanted a gender-blind, colour blind production with 50% male / female actors and 50% with / BAME actors. While we agree that male and female represent a 50 / 50 split of the population, the second figure adds to the woes of white male actors, now heavily disadvantaged in finding work. 50/50 isn’t the white / BAME population split. It has to be totally colour blind because the amount of abuse about the savage British by Romans would get horribly pointed if the sides had been colour coded in either direction. Bernays points out that the size of the Roman Empire made it credible that the Roman army had African troops, Better unsaid, I think, as you can’t carry on the same rationale to the ancient Brits. In fact, the legion that Boudica destroyed was known as the Hispanic, so presumably drawn from Spain.

The 50/50 gender split policy is taken as read now at The Globe and The National. Michele Terry as incoming artistic director has repeated it. As Bernays says, it gives the women a chance to do the fun things like sword fighting. OK, if you’re doing Shakespeare this will mean switching roles to female, as King Lear does at The Globe with Kent and The Fool, or women dressing up as men as often happens in ensemble roles. However, surely if you’re commissioning a brand new play, and you want a 50/50 gender split, logic would be to write the parts that way in the first place.

On the script, Tristan Bernays explains that he wanted the contrast of iambic pentameter with soldiers effing and blinding. I had no problem with that. It gives the Roman trio some very good comedy lines, most of which include fuck or shit. It works. The opening line after the prologue is Sweet Pluto’s arsehole – this fucking island! It’s amusing that the allegedly civilised Romans are represented by foul-mouthed squaddies. The comic Roman squaddies in this cold and miserable island was another reminder of Cheltenham 123.

Sometimes the cod-Shakespearean text works … as in the beautifully declaimed opening speech by Andraste, Goddess of Victory. Other times I thought it had fallen over too far to sound 1600. The one that got me was needs must and must needs. When the British National Corpus (a record of English as it is actually used) gets to Boudica play text,I’ll bet they’ll find it has the greatest occurrence of must needs / needs must in the last century. (I used a King Lear quote in my review of that play the day before, and that includes must needs !) There must be six or seven instances, culminating in:

BOUDICA No, you needs must fly.
BLODWYN We needs must fight.

A lot of lines sounded convoluted to my ear, and they had the running stage text at the side for the deaf. The play text says it went to press before rehearsals ended, so it might differ. Either they revised it, or some of the actors were naturally smoothing out the lumps because what they said was less forced than what was on the screen. There was a lot of odd word order to sound as if written 400 years ago.

I found the play text a little odd in being divided into five acts. It’s 2017. Number the scenes of course, but wherever it’s going to played it’s going to be Part One and Part Two, and you might as well avoid the Shakespearean conceit, and call them Act One (acts 1,2,3) and Act Two (acts 4,5).

The ending? A great Globe curtain call … they sang the reprised anti-Roman words interspersed with I Fought The Law by The Bobby Fuller Four (I fought the law and the law won …) a hit in 1965-66. It was sung by Forbes Masson on lead vocal, and as the famous cover was by The Clash in 1979, I assume they were pairing it with London Calling. It leapt out for me because one of my most played songs this year is ‘Bobby Fuller Died For Your Sins’ by Chuck Prophet … on the theme of fighting the law in modern America, and the law winning. As with the Romans. Boudicca fought the law and the law won.

Oh, and I’m the first review not to make a Game of Thrones connection. Damn! I just did.

I’m sorry that there are no wide pictures online to show the exuberance of the thing.

Overall: ****

MUSIC CREDITS

The Globe are still doing it. In two tightly spaced pages of credits, they can’t find room to mention the songwriters who provided two of the best moments in the play.

London Calling was written by Joe Strummer and Mick Jones and was the title track of the iconic album by The Clash.

I Fought The Law was written by Sonny Curtis of The Crickets in 1958 and was a hit for The Bobby Fuller Four in 1966. It was covered by The Clash.